Save Me From This Mess Called Life
by bodysurfer27
Summary: "We are all we have. Happily Ever Afters aren't for us. But we're here and we're alive and we're breathing and we're survivors and we're going to be stronger than this because we're together. Nobody can break us apart."
1. Evil Queen Backstory

**A/N:** **I had originally intended to post this last year, but I've revised it so many times because I kept changing my mind. Now after I made my decision (for the most part) about how I wanted this story to go, I am posting the first two chapters with the hope of getting this finished by the end of 2018.**

 **I do not own Disney's _Descendants_ or any storyline/characters/settings from Melissa De La Cruz's _Isle of the Lost_ trilogy. **

***I am changing a lot of Disney characters/relationships/storylines to fit this idea. Maleficent will be portrayed closer to the live-action version, Grimhilde and Ravenna are both part of my Evil Queen character, Cruella is still crazy but with more of a backstory, and Jafar is more emotionally manipulative to his unwanted son.**

 ****Majority of this story is about the Isle kids and their lives before Auradon. Mainly, how they became friends, their start of alliances and gang wars and territory accumulation, and their relationships with their parents. It will be more Evie-centric, just because I identify with her character more than I do Carlos, Jay, or Mal.**

 *****This story contains more adult themes/violence than the original storylines for these characters.**

 ******Finally, I will put an Author's Note along with whatever I have changed for that chapter when I post it so it's easier for you to follow along.**

 **Don't be afraid to review or send me a message. I'm always open to criticism because it makes me a better writer and gives me insight on how I could relate my story to my readers in a better way. I do not like flames, but if you feel the need to send me a hateful message about how my writing sucks and my ideas are crazy, go right ahead and post them. I already know I'm crazy and my ideas are weird but that's what makes each writer unique. To come up with weird and wacky ideas is what keeps sites like this and people like us and readers like you invested in stories and I think that's a pretty cool thing.**

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Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, there lived a Queen. This Queen was beautiful, regal, and intelligent beyond anyone's beliefs. However she was a very cold leader, a killer with no remorse. With each kingdom she conquered, another king laid slain in his bed. Once she had taken control of more than half of what would become the country of Auradon, she had finally decided to consider the possibility of settling down with another handsome, young, naive king she could control and an heir to raise.

She had chosen a king of a neighboring kingdom she had yet to conquer. Deciding against magic and bloodshed, she joined their two houses and he surprised her with a daughter from his first wife.

Snow White was eight when she first saw the Queen. Hair as black as ebony, skin as pale as white, lips that shamed the single red rose in her hand. Thick, luxurious eyelashes framed inquisitive hazel eyes. A light dusting of freckles painted perfectly rosy cheeks hidden by the rose.

The Queen slowly saw the life she had created for herself falling apart before her eyes. The little brat was going to ruin everything. Not to mention, give the Queen a wrinkle or two. Snow White was a menace and as soon as she came of age would be destroyed. Nobody would remember her anyway.

Suffice to say, Snow White was not the heir the Queen saw herself to care for. The child was not well-behaved or mannered or polite; the princess showed too much empathy and the Queen deemed the princess too naive and gullible. Her kindness would be her downfall.

Snow White simply was not bred to rule a kingdom.

Until she managed to outsmart the Queen, destroy everything the Queen had worked her entire life for, fall in love with a prince, and live happily ever after in a little community named Auradon with all the other kingdoms her wicked step-mother had conquered and little woodland animals and those pesky dwarves while the Evil Queen was resurrected and placed onto an Island full of villains and absolutely no magic or connection to the outside world.

It wasn't until after the creation of the Isle of the Lost that the Evil Queen's luck began to change.

Hiding in the shadows, she lurked, biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment to finally conquer the Isle.

Until Maleficent has the same idea. The same brilliant, horrible, awful, amazing idea.

Instead of ruining her perfect figure like her nemesis with horns, the Evil Queen watched and waited for two bumbling idiots (who couldn't even turn a Demi-God mortal) to carry a baby pink basket towards the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.


	2. Meet My Daughter

_~Six Years Later~_

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Trapped in a dirty musky cold room, stood a blue haired brown-eyed child. At only six years old, she stood tall and obedient.

Her blue hair cascaded down her shoulders in gentle waves, reminding her step-mother of running water. More often than not her mother would comment about her hair resembling 'a drowned rat in need of some brushing' and would spend half the day teaching the young girl the correct way to brush her curls.

Her hypnotic brown eyes showed nothing. Devoid of any emotion, the child learned better than to show she could think for herself. Every day she pretended to be a mindless obedient faux princess was another day saved of pain.

Her face remained expressionless and she had learned to only respond in quiet tones. She must curtsy whenever her mother entered her room and knew better than to correct any accusations thrown against her.

She waited for the familiar clicking to come down the hallway, signaling her only company of the hour. With no clock or window to tell the time of day, she usually sat down at the broken table which served as a desk and held a sewing machine, a few spools of faded colored thread, and a couple rusty needles along with a cardboard box full of various cosmetic products. Any sewing project aside from repairing holes in her mother's clothes was kept a secret. She would not like another lesson on the importance of following rules.

A large old fashioned vanity mirror was nestled in the corner, a few broken shards lying in front of it. Antique wood framed the reflective surface and allowed any physical imperfections in the person to magnify in the spiderweb cracks. A faded frilly pink comforter donned the bed against the side of the wall near the mirror and exactly across from the door.

Today, however, her hands trembled behind her back with a mixture of fear and excitement. She was going to meet Maleficent-the Mistress of All Evil, the Dragon of Auroria, her mother's nemesis of the great Isle of the Lost. And the only other 'royal' woman on the Isle to have a daughter worthy of being associated with a would-be princess of Auradon.

As the noise outside of her bedroom door grew louder, the blue haired girl forced her trembling hands to steady as her heart hammered inside of her chest. The door handle jiggled and the child ran a quick non shaking hand to tame her curls before standing tall and obedient as the door opened with a loud creaking noise.

The Queen herself entered the room, her eyes immediately scrutinizing the blue haired girl before her.

"Mother." She slid into a curtsy. Her navy blue dress billowed out under her, hiding her small frilly white socks and allowing only the slightest bit of her navy blue shoes to peek out from underneath. Her long blue sleeves were covered in hand stitched lace the child stitched together herself.

"What have I taught you about speaking out of turn?" The Queen's sharp tone caused the small girl to swallow nervously. "Your curtsy is sloppy, your hair is a mess, and you're too pale." The older woman stepped closer to inspect the younger girl's face. Her green eyes scanned her daughter's eyes, cheeks, and lips. Suddenly she brought up her hand to cup the blue haired child's chin, her cold calculating gaze staring straight into her daughter's dull brown eyes. "You will sit there, you will remember your manners, you will behave. And you will not make a mockery of me." She slowly pried her fingernails away from her daughter's chin.

"Yes, Mother." The soft reply echoed throughout the small room.

"Good. Now redo your makeup. You will not go looking like that." The Queen stalked away from her daughter, her heels clacking against the old tiled floor. She closed the door then locked it, making sure her daughter knew her place. Snow White might've been able to think for herself, this one wouldn't.

As the door closed, the child exhaled a quiet breath of relief. Her silent footsteps led her to the cardboard box sitting on the table next to the old and rusted sewing machine. Inside of the box laid cracked half-used bottles of makeup. Rummaging through the box, the blue haired girl pushed aside dozens of shades of blush and foundation bottles until her small delicate fingers touched the cold metal casing of her only eyeshadow palette. She gently took it out.

She moved soundlessly towards the mirror in the corner of her room. She daintily sat down on her knees and began to reapply her coppery brown eyeshadow. Satisfied with her work a few minutes later, she stood up and crossed the small room to exchange her brown eyeshadow for her mother's favorite tube of pink lipstick. The child clutched it to her chest. A feeling of excitement crept back into her chest at the thought of graduating to a rich plum color in the next few days. Each new shade she earned was a reward for mastering how to wear the shade before it. Nude and beige were first, followed by all of the different shades of pink. Purples and reds would obviously take more time to master. Their color combinations taking more time to understand and the reasons for their functions meant for older women.

 _A princess must never wear clashing colors._

Snapping out of her excitement, she reapplied her lipstick then ran another brush through her hair. Checking herself over twice more in the mirror, she stood in the center of her room as the familiar clicking noises trailed down the hall. The child forced her expression to remain neutral. She will not make a fool out of her mother.

 _Princesses never make friends. They only make allies. And having Maleficent as an ally would be game over for Auradon._


	3. Maleficent's Spawn

**A/N:** **So, here we get to meet Maleficent and Mal! Super exciting! As I stated before, with each new character I'm introducing I will give an Author's Note with what I changed just so you guys can understand where I'm going with this story.**

 **Maleficent is like the live-adaptation of her own standalone movie. I love the idea of her as an Anti-Hero of her own story. But, I am keeping her ability to transform into a dragon as a tribute to the original Disney villain. She is more loving and kind towards her daughter. Less intent on getting off the Isle and more involved with teaching Mal how she doesn't have to be a villain just because she was born on an Isle full of villains. Maleficent and Aurora have a complicated and beautiful story arc together and I want to try and keep that in this story.**

 **Mal is still the rebel, wild, hyperactive child I pictured her to be when I read the beginning of the first _Isle of the Lost book_. She only cares about making mischief and causing trouble. But don't worry, she'll end up more like the teenager with attitude later on in the story. Gotta set up that storyline somehow ;)**

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The blue haired child's eyes were wide with wonder as her mother locked the door to the castle.

A large forest of trees spanned the horizon on her right, and dark grey clouds swirled high above her head. The castle gleamed gloominess and depression behind her. Each gray brick whispering nothing but pain and sorrow. The girl shivered, her body unused to the stark coldness outside of the musty castle.

The Evil Queen quickly gripped her daughter's wrist. Her red nails pierced the bluenette's frail skin as the older woman proceeded to drag her along. Both pairs of heels clacked on the uneven cobblestone floor leading to the broken rusted gate separating the two royals from the rest of the Isle's inhabitants.

"You will stay close to me. You will keep your head down. And you will not speak to anyone. These low-lives are not people we associate with. Understand, Genevieve?"

"Yes, Mother." The child answered absentmindedly. Her brown eyes were busy studying everything she could while keeping her head bowed. They easily slipped through the wide crack in the gate and were on their way.

Genevieve's eyes looked up through her lashes to see a huge mansion across the street. The old building was dilapidated; shambles were missing from the roof, a large hole framed where Genevieve supposed a window used to be, and dog statues were placed on the pillars above the thin iron which served as a gate. A sense of fear crept into her chest and the blue haired child stepped closer to her mother, earning a disapproving noise in return.

"Genevieve." The Queen scolded her daughter. With a soft nod, the young girl took a step away. She readjusted the small purse on her shoulder in hopes of quelling her fear.

 _Royalty never crowds royalty._

The Queen hurried them along, passing several buildings in ruins and lowly common folk. Genevieve drank in her surroundings like water.

For being her first time outside, she definitely noticed all eyes on her. That sense of fear coursed through her veins, rooting deep into her chest. Her breathing quickened and her palms began to sweat. All her life she was trapped in that small room (and occasionally the dungeon beneath the castle if she needed to learn her lesson) and now she has walked by the most people she has ever seen. People who were judging her for her hair, her clothes, her overall appearance. As their stares became too much, the child lowered her eyes to the ground, studying broken rocks and shards of bottles she stepped over and around.

"Keep up, Genevieve." The Queen's hold on her daughter's wrist tightened. "It's rude to dilly dally."

"Yes, Mother." She responded softly.

"A princess never keeps royalty waiting." The older woman scoffed, choosing to quicken their pace once she realized the attention the other inhabitants had lingered on her child. The bluenette was not beautiful; the child was a tool. Just like Snow White. A pretty, innocent, naive tool to conquer a kingdom.

 _Men and their petty weaknesses._

Maybe conquering a kingdom will be easier than the Queen thought...

Snapping out of her thoughts, the older woman yanked the child front and centered the child before the girl could take an ungraceful tumble. She removed her fingers from the thin delicate wrist of her daughter. She fluffed up her blue hair then smoothed down Genevieve's dress.

"Remember, you will not disrespect me." The small child nodded once and the queen pushed her forward through the wrought iron gates of Maleficent's property.

Genevieve swallowed nervously as a large raven circled high overhead. A sharp cry of a caw echoed through the area and caused the child to flinch in fear. Still, she was pushed forward until the swirling gray sky was hidden under the large dark black arc covering the door to Maleficent's Castle. Sharp nails in her shoulder halted Genevieve's movement.

The Queen used the dragon shaped knocker to hang on the door once. Feeling her heart pounding in her chest, the blue haired child attempted to calm her nerves by breathing in deeply. Before she could exhale, the door swung open and revealed a short, stout, armored-clad goblin-like creature wearing a large snarl and revealing his sharp crooked yellowed teeth.

"Name?" The hoarse voice choked out, however a taller figure sidled behind the goblin. She moved with grace, gliding across the floor like she owned the world. Her whole body radiated power. Her long brunette hair fell down her shoulders in a rippling wave, each piece combed to perfection. One brown horn adorned each side of her head. Her jade green eyes landed on Genevieve first, causing the Mistress of All Evil to quirk an eyebrow in surprise until her green eyes flickered to the woman behind the younger girl.

"Ravenna." Her tone was curt, short and steeled.

"Maleficent." The Queen met the Dragon's cold gaze.

"Who is this little thing?" Maleficent gestured her fingers to the blue haired child disdainfully.

"Genevieve. She is my daughter." Maleficent's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"I did not expect children to attend this meeting."

"She is well-behaved. Unlike your little brat." The Dragon woman's eyes narrowed sharply.

"Watch your tone, Ravenna." Her tone held enough of a message for the queen to tread lightly.

"Of course. My apologies." Maleficent pursed her lips together but said nothing. Instead, she stepped to the side.

"Go away." She shooed the goblin. It grunted before turning around and scurrying down the hall and disappearing from sight.

"Genevieve." Ravenna snapped sharply.

"Your Highness." The bluenette slid into a proper curtsy, ignoring the burning stare directed at the back of her head and the chain of her purse sliding down her arm.

"Rise." Maleficent spoke with a curl of her fingers. The Mistress of All Evil lifted her hand as the young child stood up from her curtsy while she fixed her purse back into its original position. "My daughter is out. She will be back soon. Genevieve, why don't you wait in the living room until she gets back. Make yourself comfortable." Stealing a quick look behind her, Ravenna tilted her chin up just a hair. Enough for Genevieve to know it was a nod. "Up the stairs. Off you go." Genevieve bowed her head, curtsied quickly then scurried up the wrought iron stairs.

Once she was out of sight from her mother, she released a soft sigh. Swallowing down her nerves once more, she let her head lean back against the brick wall. She closed her eyes then let out another quiet sigh. She was finally free from her mother for a few hours in a new house and the idea of actually meeting someone other than her mother filled her with hope.

She opened her eyes then squared her shoulders. Her head up high, she took in another deep breath. Exhaling quietly, she allowed her eyes to wander over the large living space.

A large wrought iron table took up the center of the room. Four wrought iron chairs surrounded each side of the table. A huge wrought iron chandelier dropped from the ceiling. Several candles burned even in the 'daylight'. A throne sat above the table, the space barred by a wooden gate to break up the space. Two large curtains framed either side of a wall, leading to the balcony. A refrigerator took up the right side of the wall and the left broke off into a hallway. Behind the stairs was a leather couch and a wrought iron coffee table. A wooden bench housed an old television a few feet away from the couch. The room was probably four times the size of her room alone, and she felt intimidated just standing in the castle owned by such a powerful woman.

Slowly, Genevieve made her way to the large table. She took her time pulling out one of the large wrought iron chairs, wincing when the legs of the chair scraped the floor with a loud screeching sound. She hurriedly sat down, placing her small purse in her lap. She popped open the clasp with a faint clicking noise and reached down to grab her sewing needle and spool of thread. The thread happened to be connected to a small square of fabric. She closed her purse and set it down on the top of the glass covering the table. Feeling more at ease in this large room, and comforted by having her sewing needle and thread, she attempted to keep herself occupied until her mother and Maleficent finished talking.

A short while later, heavy footsteps stomped up the stairs. Loud enough to force the bluenette to falter with her stitching. Her doe brown eyes snapped towards the stairs, only to see a purple head of hair bouncing up and down with each step.

"Stupid meeting." A feminine voice huffed. "Why is she so mean?" The female voice grumbled, oblivious to Genevieve's staring. The purple head was followed by a purple leather jacket that covered a mossy green shirt and ripped black leather pants were finished off with purple studded boots. "Who does that lady think she is? Queen of the Isle or something? When my mommy-" Emerald green eyes met dark brown. Both girls assessed each other, scrutinizing every detail of their enemy. "Who are you?" The purple haired child took a step back, her hand hovering over a zippered pouch on the side of her leg. Her emerald eyes began to harden, her posture turning stiff with tension. A stranger was in her house.

"Genevieve." The bluenette replied, leaning back in fear. "My mother is the Queen."

The purple haired child studied her expression for a moment before allowing herself to relax. Her hand no longer hovered over the side of her leg. Her eyes began to soften.

"You don't go to my school."

"My mother teaches me at my castle. School isn't proper for princesses."

"Lucky! I wish I didn't have to go to school." The purple haired girl came closer to the table. "I'm Mal. Maleficent's daughter." She stuck out her hand.

Genevieve eyed her hand warily. Distrust flickered across her face.

 _Princesses only shake hands when gloves are worn or fingers are laced with poison._

"Don't you know what a handshake is?" Mal rolled her eyes. "Hades, you're weird." She dropped her hand then ran her fingers through her shoulder length purple tresses. "And I've met a lot of weird kids. But you might just be the weirdest." Mal mused, her little legs carrying her over to the refrigerator.

"Mal in Spanish means bad." Genevieve blurted out, causing Mal's eyebrow to furrow together in confusion.

 _Princesses don't speak out of turn-_

"Okay?" Mal shook her head to clear it. "I take it back, you are the weirdest person I've ever met." The purple haired girl said with a shrug before she used both hands to open the door to the refrigerator. After scanning its contents, Mal shut the door with a loud and dramatic sigh. "You wanna do something fun? I was s'possed to hang out with Jay but he can't come over."

"Like what?"

"I dunno. We could...scream at people from the balcony. That's what Mrs. Cruella does whenever she comes over. Or we could sneak out and run around the tombstones. Jay and I do that a lot. Or we can prank Uma. I have loads of ideas and sketches! We can dump shrimp all over her smelly stinky blue head!"

"Why would you do that?" Genevieve asked, worry coloring her tone. Mal's hands came down to rest on her hips as a proud gleam shone in her eyes.

"Because she tried to kiss Jay because I kissed Harry Hook." The purple haired girl boasted with a smug smile.

"Genevieve!" A booming feminine voice hollered from the base of the stairs. Both girls shared a wide-eyed look with each other before the bluenette quickly shoved her sewing needle, thread, and fabric hastily into her purse.

"Where are you-"

"It was nice to meet you, Mal." The princess barely managed to spit out along with a quick curtsy before bolting down the stairs. She made sure to keep her pace elegant and dainty as she descended the last half of the staircase. "Mother. Maleficent." She curtsied once her feet hit the ground.

"We're leaving." Ravenna's nails found their way into her daughter's bicep as she hauled the small girl towards the door. "You are never to set foot in this castle again. Do you understand?" The Queen hissed as she dragged Genevieve outside. "You will stay away from those insufferable freaks. Do I make myself clear?" Ravenna threw her daughter forward, spinning her to face the older woman. Genevieve's blue curls spun to the side as Ravenna's palm connected with her cheek. A loud slapping noise echoed throughout the empty area. "You will answer me when I ask you a question."

"Y-Yes, Mother." Again, Ravenna's palm connected with her daughter's cheek. This time, the blue haired girl's knees buckled with the force and she crumpled to the ground. She closed her eyes as the stinging sensation brought tears to her eyes. Crying would be her death sentence here. Instead, she opened her eyes and willed back the tears.

"Princesses don't stutter. One more mistake and we will make sure you learn your lesson." The young girl nodded and swallowed nervously as she got up from the ground.

"Yes, Mother."

"Now stay close. The last thing I need is for you to embarrass me again." Ravenna barked, standing tall and intimidating. Genevieve made sure to keep her head bowed and her eyes on the floor. Whatever happened in that meeting, Genevieve was sure was only the beginning to her mother's unqueenly fit of rage.

"Yes, Mother."


	4. Mommy Loves You

**A/N:** **I know this story is moving fast, but the first five chapters are considered the prologue. Chapter 6 is when the story really begins. I have to set up Ravenna's manipulation, Maleficent's introduction, Jafar's (or, really, _Jay's_ ) role in Evie's character development, and a glimpse into my version of Evie's backstory up to a certain point. I cannot wait for my next update because that's when this fic _really_ gets going and I cannot wait to see what you guys think.**

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"Mommy only hit you because you embarrassed her." Ravenna ran the hairbrush down the ocean waves of blue cascading down her daughter's back. "Being a princess is hard work. Those peasants just don't understand." She spat out, causing Genevieve to nod in understanding. "Mommy loves you very much. I do what I have to because you will be a pretty princess in Auradon. You will sit on a large gold throne, and wear a pretty tiara. And all those people are jealous of your beauty. And their hate will only grow once you become a Queen. With a bigger tiara and a bedroom full of mirrors." Ravenna set the hairbrush back in the box on the wooden table. "You will move mountains and conquer kingdoms, my sweet. One day you will rule the world. And the world will be begging on its knees for you." The Queen pressed her lips to her daughter's forehead in a feather light kiss.

"I love you, mommy." Genevieve said softly, knowing the right moment to interrupt after several years of repetition.

Ravenna grimaced a smile, knowing the only way to groom a princess was how her mother raised her. As much as Ravenna hated Snow White, she realized little girls like to be coddled and hugged every once in awhile. Keep them happy and they will move mountains and conquer kingdoms for you. Not kill you with seven pesky little dwarves or an army of uprising peasants.

"I love you, my little queen in training." She adjusted the frilly pink comforter until it rested just right. Then Ravenna picked up a chipped yellow cup next to the box on the table. "Now drink your medicine."

The little girl eagerly accepted the cup, clutching it to her chest. Her eyes flickered down to the cup's contents, mesmerized like always when the cream colored liquid swirled inside and her doe brown eyes were reflected in the creamy ripples.

"May I have my question of the night?" Her soft voice asked with hesitation. She braved a glance through her lashes at her mother who gave a gentle nod. The queen's head tilted to the side, and golden strands of hair spilled down her shoulder in reaction to her small movement.

"Remember the rules."

"No asking about my hair, my father, Maleficent, or my medicine." She replied without missing a beat. Ravenna smiled softly, however her light blue eyes darkened with warning. "Maleficent's daughter, Mal, called me weird...what does that mean?"

"It is a compliment, my child. Do not worry what that little beast thinks of you. She will think twice about speaking to you once you sit on your throne, golden tiara placed on your head, and an airheaded prince by your side wielding a very sharp sword." Ravenna directed her eyes to the chipped cup in her daughter's hands. "Drink. Tomorrow is a new day. One filled with promises."

Genevieve held the cup to her lips. With practiced skill, she downed the contents of the cup in one long sip. The familiar bitterness of the apple danced across her tastebuds as the sweetness of the actual medication provided a balance of the drink. Something spicy cut through the sweetness and the bitterness and she eagerly swallowed the liquid in her mouth to get rid of the fiery heat.

She daintily wiped her lips with the sleeve of her faded purple nightgown, the purple lace fraying around the cuffs. Ravenna plucked the cup from her child's fingers then set it back in its place on the table. Her high heeled shoes clacked on the broken bricks as she walked herself to the door. She held the circular ring of the door handle on the outside of the door, choosing to speak to the wooden object instead of the blue haired beauty in her bed.

"Tomorrow you will be on your best behavior. We have a meeting with a very important person and you will not embarrass me."

"Yes, Mother." The child said before covering her mouth with her delicate hand. A large yawn had Genevieve's eyes closing. She kept her eyes closed as she snuggled herself deeper into her frilly pink comforter.

"Genevieve, what did you do today?" Ravenna asked, to make sure her amnesia potion had worked regardless of the barrier.

"Practiced my make up, mommy. Just like yesterday." The small child whispered through a yawn. "And the day before that. And the day before that."

"I love you, my darling."

"I love you, mommy."

Ravenna shut the door, taking care to lock it before she stepped away. Mother Gothel was too sweet to Rapunzel. The old witch gave that princess too much freedom. By locking the door and keeping her trapped without windows, Ravenna would succeed in conquering Auradon with a mindless little robot. As long as that little blue haired girl stayed obedient and isolated, the kingdom of Auradon will fall. And fall to its knees it will.

Or, it would, if tomorrow's meeting with Jafar went how Ravenna expected it to. But then again, when does anything work out for a villain?


	5. Genny, Genie, Vivi, Gigi, Evie!

**A/N:** **Time for Jafar and Jay to be introduced! Jafar is a cross between the animated movie and the way he's depicted in _Descendants_. He longs for a lamp, but being Royal Vizier to the Sultan of Agrabah means he is a powerful ally to Ravenna and a powerful figure on the Isle. Jay is sort of a younger version of himself. Not much different there, except he's a little more open to potentially having a new ally. And of course, since I love Jay and Evie together, this is the start of their relationship.**

 ****There is minor cursing in this chapter and I will be moving the rating up to M next chapter since that's when this story really begins to develop.**

 ***I do not own _Matilda_**

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Standing in front of an old dilapidated building, Genevieve didn't know what to think. For one, the sign labeled _Jafar's Junk Shoppe_ was written in barely legible cursive on a wooden board. And for two, her mother kept swallowing in an action that could be only described as being nervous. And Ravenna was never nervous.

A Queen held a stoic, neutral expression. Occasionally smiling and making light conversation were the exceptions. Not smoothing down the folds of a dress as sweaty palms tried to force themselves to remain still. Her usually overly composed mother was nervous.

And as for Genevieve?

She stood completely in control. A bit bored, she supposed, but not nervous. Until the wooden door to the shop opened and a man taller than her mother answered the door and suddenly all of Genevieve's composure flew out the window.

He stood in a powerful position: shoulders back, chin raised, and holding himself with an aura radiating confidence. His blue leather cape fell down his shoulders, forcing her gaze to study his orange leather vest-like dress tied together around a slender waist with the same leather blue style belt. Dirty yellowed shoes poked out from the bottom of his dress-like outfit and his cape seemed to be longer than his outfit, trailing off into that of a small train.

Raising her head, she noticed the sharp black color of his mustache and the pointed features of his chin, jaws, and nose. Black eyebrows framed his aging face and a large hat covered his head in the same orange and blue leather.

His glittering black eyes scanned her small frame up and down, eyebrow raised and lips curving into a smirk once his dark brown eyes met her lighter ones. She quickly averted her gaze and dropped into a curtsy.

"Your Highness." She bowed her head, her eyes focused on the yellow color of his pointy shoes.

"Ravenna." His deep, raspy voice caused a nervous feeling to pass through Genevieve and she refused to shudder in disgust at the fondness his tone seemed to hold. "I have been expecting you."

"Jafar." Her hand found its way around her daughter's bicep. "It has been too long." Still in her curtsy, Genevieve held her breath as the tall man in front of her took a step towards her.

"Come. My son is upstairs. He will make sure your daughter is...occupied." Genevieve's heartbeat began to race at his words. "Nothing against your wishes, of course."

"How old is he?"

"Old enough to keep his hands off of your princess, my Queen." The man in front of her said with a smile, his teeth glittering in the candle light inside his shop. "You may rise, my darling princess." Genevieve stood up slowly, taking great care to avoid his eyes. Something about his tone seemed off. "Come." He stepped aside and allowed the Queen and Princess of the Isle to enter.

All around the inside were shelves and shelves of baubles and trinkets of various types. Metals were scattered on the counters with beads and jewels placed wherever could please the eye. Jafar waited until Ravenna entered to close the door. A wooden staircase sat directly in front of the door with a door closed at the top.

"The princess may go up these stairs. The door will open if you knock."

Licking her lips, Genevieve took a few confident steps towards the staircase. She will not embarrass her mother. She lifted her dress as she placed her blue heeled shoe onto the step, causing the navy blue material in her fingers to become damp with sweat. Her favorite leather blue dress was her only comfort as she left her mother behind. Each step she took echoed every nerve beginning to buzz inside of her. She hesitated before knocking on the wooden door. After gathering up her courage, she let go of her dress to allow her fingers to raise to the wooden door and she knocked softly once. She swallowed back her fear and waited with baited breath.

The door opened with a loud creaking noise. No one stood in front of her and she could not see a shadow behind the door either. Raising her chin to give herself a boost of confidence, the young girl strode confidently into the room. The door shut behind her with a loud bang and she jumped, twirling around to see a boy standing with his back to the door, arms crossed in front of his chest and a harsh glare set in his dark brown eyes.

His lips were drawn into a straight line. A piece of red fabric covered the base of his head and long brown hair framed his face, the wavy strands stopping right above his shoulders. An orange tank top covered his chest and blue leather pants stopped right under his knees where thick black combat boots completed the outfit. His hands were covered in fingerless black leather gloves.

"You're the princess." He stated rather than asked. His voice was low enough to match his father's.

"Yes." She answered, smoothing down the material of her dress from where she had grabbed it to walk up the stairs. "I'm Genevieve." She curtsied before standing straight again.

"Jay." He nodded his chin in her direction, allowing her to see a long pink vertical scratch under his chin. It stopped at the base of his throat and disappeared when he let his chin fall back into its previous position. His name sounded familiar, however she couldn't remember from where or why. She has only lived with her mother. No one entered their castle and neither Queen nor princess left. Until today that is.

"You don't look like a princess." His eyes briefly skimmed over the top of her head before meeting her eyes again. "Aren't princesses supposed to wear tiaras or somethin'?"

"It's a crown. And I will have one once I take over my mother's throne." He took a step towards her, then another and another until he stopped right beside her, invading her personal space. His breath fanned her face when he spoke, however his eyes drew her in. Jay's brown eyes were dark, dark enough for her to see her blue curls reflected in them. Enough to just barely rattle her senses as the smell of leather invaded her nose and her curiosity at simply him plagued her mind.

"Sounds stupid to me." He knocked his shoulder into hers as he walked by, causing her to swallow. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, showing how easy it was for him to intimidate her. "You coming, princess?" He called over his shoulder, causing her to spin on her heel for a second time.

He sat down on an old couch, half of it sunken into the wooden floor due to its two missing legs. The cloth was stained with different colors. Purples and greens melded with reds and blues and oranges to cover the couch. She quickly evened her breathing before following him over to the couch. She sat down on the lower side of the couch, noticing the flickering light of the television bathing that corner of the room in a bleak gray hue.

"It's not great, and we only get two channels, but it's tv." He grumbled, his arms still crossed over his chest. He kept his eyes focused on the tv.

"I don't even have a tv." She responded softly, focusing her gaze onto her hands in her lap. "My mother doesn't approve of them."

"Your mother sounds annoying." He snarled, however his body relaxed into the colored cushions of the couch. "What's it like, living with a Queen?"

"I don't know. Boring, I guess." He snorted at her statement.

"Aren't you put on a pedestal like a snotty Auradonian princess?"

"I don't know what that means."

"It means, doesn't your mom worship the ground you walk on? Isn't that what all royalty does?" She licked her lips as she thought of a response. He scoffed at her silence, rolling his eyes as he kept them on the cracked television screen. "My Dad might want something from your mom, but that doesn't mean you and I are going to be allies."

"Allies?"

"Friends." He amended shortly. "It means people who spend time together. Read a book or something. Hades, you're stupid." He shook his head in annoyance.

"I'm not stupid." She retorted just as annoyed and a little bit hurt by his rudeness. "Reading causes wrinkles and eye strains and is something a princess will not need to seduce a prince. Men do not like smart women for wives and I will not have some low-life peasant commoner calling me stupid simply because he is not of royal blood." She huffed, crossing her own arms over her chest. Her eyes never wavered from her hands, even as her gaze was forced to drop to her arms instead.

"Damn." He whistled softly, chuckling as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry." She drew her arms tighter against her chest, anticipating a verbal lashing for speaking so rudely. "I just do not appreciate being called stupid. It's insulting to demean someone's intelligence. Especially that of a royal. I understand I do not know much, but to be called stupid is something I do not wish be called."

"So...seducing a prince...that's your goal?"

"If I ever get off this island, yes."

"Mine is to marry a princess. Well, at least that's what my dad wants me to do. That's probably what the meeting is about. You and I getting betrothed or something."

"I don't think so. My mother would never marry me off. She'd lose her only pawn to get to Auradon."

"If you say so." He snorted again. The room went silent for a few minutes. He fiddled with his gloves before the silence became too much for him. "How old are you anyway?"

"Six."

"Well shit. There's no way we'll get betrothed. You're way too young for me." He shook his head then continued talking. "I'm almost nine. Don't get me wrong, princess, you're cute and all but I'm too old to hang around girls your age." He stopped talking, realizing what words came out of his mouth. He crossed his arms even tighter over his chest, closing himself off as much as he could, trying to ignore the burning sensation in his cheeks.

"Your name's Jay?" Genevieve's soft voice finally broke him out of his embarrassment.

"Yeah." He grumbled, hoping she was not going to comment something snarky about being called cute.

"It's a nice name."

"It's short for Jaspar. But my dad hates my name so I go by Jay."

"Why does he hate it?"

"Because that's the name my mom wanted and he hates my mom."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's whatever." He pursed his lips together as he finished speaking. Apologies were rare on the Isle...especially to him. "Do you go by any name?"

"No."

"But your name is so long." His eyes rose glance at the side of her face. She kept her eyes on her arms, her perfect posture looking out of place on his ratty old couch.

"I happen to like my name. It's regal and elegant and perfect for being nobility."

"Whatever you say, princess." Her lips pursed together and her eyebrows furrowed together in what could be described as confusion before her expression softened and her facial features returned back to their normal neutral position. "What do you do for fun?"

"I beg your pardon?" Again, her face contorted into a confused expression and he stifled a laugh at how adorably oblivious this princess was.

"Fun. You know, what do you do when you're bored?"

"I clean, and sew, and practice putting on makeup."

"That sounds awful." His eyebrows shot up in disgust. "What about something fun? Like, running and sword fighting and, shit, even reading is better than whatever chores you say are fun."

"I don't have much time to myself. Whatever time I do have, I prefer to sew."

"You're more boring than deVil." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "Alright Genny," his eyebrows scrunched together in disgust again as he tested out each nickname, "Genie, Vivi, no. That doesn't sound right. Anyway, we are going to do something fun. So, pick something fun."

"Why don't you just read to me then? Since I'm stupid." He sat up straighter at her challenging tone.

"Fine. And I'll prove to you reading is more fun than sewing." He stood up then walked past her to the bookshelf on the far right side of the room.

Her eyes finally rose from her arms to his back. She followed his movements, even as he stood on his tiptoes to reach a book on the top shelf just barely within his reach. She averted her gaze once he turned to face her. She busied herself with uncrossing her arms while he walked back to the couch.

"This is the only one with pictures." He explained after he sat down. "So you're gonna have to sit closer, Gigi." He shook his head. "Nope. I'll find a nickname for you. One that doesn't sound so gross."

"Or you can just call me by my name and forget whatever a nickname is." She stood up, wary to be in a closer proximity with him. He tapped the space next to him with his open hand, his other already holding the opened book.

"No can do, princess. If by some chance we are betrothed, I am not calling you Genevieve." She carefully sat down beside him, tugging her arms tighter to her body. He sighed, rolling his eyes at her behavior. "I'm not gonna give you cooties. I already got the hands-to-myself speech from my dad. And I do not want that kind of punishment tonight." He opened the book wider with his free hand, allowing her easier access to the stained and ripped yellow pages. "Now, this book is about a kid with magical powers. It's called _Matilda_ and I think you'll like it."

"Oh, princess!" Jafar's muffled voice shouted from downstairs.

"Or I guess not." Jay said with a frown, closing the book in his lap. He rose to his feet. "Maybe next time, Evie." He paused, staring down at her with an excited gleam in his brown eyes. "Evie. Got a nice ring to it. Gotta remember that for next time, princess. Anyway, you gotta go before they start thinking something's going on up here. It's never good when adults assume things, am I right?" He waited for her to stand before he led her to the door. "I would ask for a kiss, but I'm no Prince Charming, nor did I slay the mighty dragon today so I guess a lousy nickname will do." His hand on the doorknob, he hesitated.

"You talk a lot." She said quietly.

"Or you talk too little." He inhaled deeply before he opened the door. "See ya 'round, princess." He mumbled just loud enough for her to hear then shut the door and left her standing on the top of the stairs all by herself.

 _What just happened?_

Shaking away her confusion, she swallowed before holding her head up high. Her heels clacked with each step of her descent. Muffled words were spoken off to the side, and her mother's hair came into view once her feet touched the bottom floor.

"I think we've come to an understanding." Ravenna smiled at the man standing in front of her.

"Indeed we have." He nodded right back, until his eyes slid over her mother's shoulder to land on blue hair. "I look forward to our next visit, Genevieve." The way her name rolled off of his tongue sounded weird and she fought back a flinch of disgust. "Ravenna cannot keep you locked inside that castle forever. You're too pretty for your beauty to be wasted on stone walls."

"And you will teach her?"

"She will be in excellent hands, Ravenna." Jafar's eyes never wavered from Genevieve. "That, I can promise."


	6. Pirates!

_~Two Years Later~_

* * *

Darkness.

Pitch black met blurry vision as her eyes finally fluttered open. Trembling, she was suddenly aware of how violently her body shook. Chains rattled and clanged together behind her, securing her left wrist to the bedpost. Her head fell back against the scratchy flat pillow as her eyesight began to sharpen.

Pain.

Metal bit into the delicate skin of her wrist. The side of her face stung with the air in the room. A dull ache in her rib cage reminded her of her struggle to break free from the chains. A white hot searing feeling trickled from the inside of her thigh and brought awareness back through her body.

Fear.

A sudden tightness twisted her chest as foreign hands ghosted the inside of her thighs. A quiet groan filled with awe as he marveled her beauty. A struggle of arms and legs and something silver before a cry of surprise echoed in the air and the disappearance of his body on top of hers. That tense waiting period to see if he'd try something like that again.

She sat up on shaking elbows. Her heart hammered against her aching chest. Her breathing quickened as her shallow inhaled and exhales were the only sounds in the room. Swallowing, she quietly climbed onto all fours, her blue hair spilling over the edge of the bed while her frightened eyes searched for the son of the man who her mother believed to be the only worthy royalty to accompany her daughter on the Isle of the Lost. Liquid glittered under the light outside of the room. A silver knife stuck out from his stomach, and blood pooled under his head from a cut on his temple. His eyes were closed and his chest rose faintly.

He was still breathing.

Genevieve allowed her body to relax onto the sunken mattress in relief. However her relief seemed short lived once she realized her wrist was still tied to the bedpost. Her cold and trembling fingers fumbled with the metal clasp. Once she steadied her fingers and was able to get the clasp undone and her hand free, a low guttural groan came from the floor. Her mind snapped into focus and she launched herself off of the bed. Her feet landed with a freak on the wooden floorboard and another wave of searing pain radiated from the inside of her thigh but all she could focus on was opening the door and running as far away from this side of the Isle as possible.

Her small fingers clutched the broken golden circular door handle and she threw it open with all of her might. Her heels bounced across the wooden floor, barely making a sound as she took off running into the darkness of the Isle.

The pain in her leg flared with each step she took down the old gravel road. Black spots began to dance across her vision and she willed her feet to keep moving. As soon as her mother found out...

The thought of being unable to go home caused an even deeper ache in her chest to pulse with fear. The Isle began to swirl around her, blending into all different shades of grays and blacks. Her ears began to buzz with screams echoing from alleys. All she knew was she had to keep running.

Until something solid banged into her, successfully knocking the breath out of her chest and sending her mind into a dazed haze. Her hand shot out reflexively to catch herself from landing on her nose. She closed her eyes as her muscles braced for another hard impact. But none came.

"Wha' the bloody hell?" A masculine voice breathed in her ear as something kept her from crashing to the ground.

She opened her eyes and was met with an unfamiliar pair of blue eyes staring just as confused back at her. Her heart still pounding like a freight train in her chest, her body trembled in relief at avoiding another painful fall. Her savior slowly scanned her face with eyes brimming with concern.

Brunet curls framed a pale face. Well-defined cheekbones and a prominent jawline signaled he was older than she was. Probably around Jay's age if she had to guess. A dark red hat sat atop of his curly hair. The hat matched a red leather jacket that covered a faded white t-shirt.

"Are ye alright?" He breathed out, his breathing almost as unsteady as hers. Vaguely, she was aware of the pain buzzing in her leg and her ribs. Her head moved into a short nodding motion and the man's expression hardened in relief. He slowly lifted her into a standing position. Her legs buckled once he tried to get her to stand on her own and his eyes landed on the crimson liquid dripping down the side of her leg.

"Yer in pirate territory, Love. You do know tha'." She blinked through her relief, her body sagging in his arms with her weight. He swallowed sharply, unused to talking to a girl that wasn't his Captain or part of his crew. "Now I know ye' aren't a pirate. So what's a lass like you doin' in this par' of the Isle?"

He waited for her to respond. After a few seconds of silence he sighed. He brought his free hand up to his hat and she gave an involuntary jerk backwards as a reaction. Her eyes closed and her posture stiffened as she waited for him to continue. Choosing not to comment on her behavior, he dropped his hand.

"I can't help if ye won't talk to me, love." He swallowed again, knowing to tread lightly with his words."Are ye part of Mal's?" Genevieve opened her eyes, only to give him a blank stare which he took as a no. "Are ye part of any gang?" Again, she gave him a blank look. "Yer alone then, nobody comin' after ye?" She shook her head slowly.

His blue eyes glanced up towards the cloudy gray sky as a soft exhale found its way through his lips. His eyes shifted over her shoulder before they flickered to her face. He seemed to come to a decision.

"Okay." The pirate blew out, his hand tightening around her waist. "Uma won' like this, but I don' care. I'm gonna take ye t' Uma's, and yer gonna wait while I find someone who can take ye home, okay? Now, I'm not doin' ye somethin' nice. If ye tell anyone about this I'll 'ave t' hook ye."

He bent down and swiped her legs out from under her. Instead of hitting the ground like she expected, her legs were thrown over his arm as he hooked her arm around his neck so she was bridal style in his arms.

"Close yer eyes, Love. Ye'll attract less attention." His breath fanned her ear. She closed her eyes like he instructed and he began to walk faster, the motion of weaving in between people causing a sense of unease to twist her stomach. "Almos' there, love." His voice did anything but reassure her. She shuddered in his arms and he took that as a sign to speed up his walking. Something creaked in front of her and she slid closer into his chest in response, warning a quiet chuckle from her savior. The brunet boy lowered her body and her eyes fluttered open in response. A large grin overtook his facial features and his eyes shone with amusement. "Stay righ' here. I'll be righ' back, Love." Her brown eyes glanced up at him beneath her lashes and his smirking grin only grew wider. He quickly readjusted his pirate hat with a low bow then strode across the shop. Towards another blue haired girl wearing a pirate hat.

"Harry. We talked about you bringing home strays." The girl slammed a tray down on a table. She didn't bother lowering her voice or stopping the glare she directed at Genevieve from across the room.

"Uma." He pleaded, his big baby blue eyes taking on an innocent expression. "The least ye' can do is fix 'er up."

"And why would I do that?" The girl snarled in Harry's direction.

"She's scared and bleedin'. She don' belong to any gang." The aqua haired ten-year-old mulled it over. "Jus' look at tha' frightened face and try t' say no."

"Harry."

"Uma." The ten-year old pirate pleaded again. "She's no' a threat. She's afraid. She's alone. And she don' belong to a gang. She won' try an' stab ye in the back." The captain rolled her eyes yet waved her hand dismissively in front of his face.

"She's getting blood all over my deck. Take her to the ship. Treat her wounds. Then find someone to take her home before I change my mind."

"Uma." The pirate boy sank to his knee, removing his hat and placing it over his heart. The captain rolled her eyes then placed her hands on his chest and pushed him backwards so he landed on his butt. His hands managed to snake around her wrists and he tugged her down with him, a small smile adorning the pirate girl's face.

"Just go." She broke her wrists free from his grasp before she stood up on her feet.

"Yes, Cap'n." He scrambled to his feet before practically slipping on the water covering the floor on his way to reach the bluenette mainlander. He bent down and picked up her frail body from the bench her hand placed her on. "Keep yer eyes shut." He mumbled softly, waiting for her to do as he said. Once her eyes closed, he stalked out of the Chip Shop and down the familiar path to the Lost Revenge.

* * *

"This might hurt, love." Harry said softly as he pressed the wet rag to the wound on her thigh. She didn't do so much as flinch. "My name's 'Arry. 'Arry 'Ook." Her eyes never moved from her fingers laying in her lap. "Now ye say yer name, love." She kept quiet. "Do ye have anyone t' go 'ome with?" He sighed, removing the wash rag. He poured more alcohol on it then pressed it back against the wound. "Ye know ye 'ave t' go 'ome, love. Do ye 'ave any alliances? Any friends?" She shook her head. "Are ye scared t' go 'ome?" Her breathing quickened and her fingers began to shake. "How old are ye?"

"Eight."

"Ah, she speaks." He said with a faint smile. "An' 'ere I thought I was goin' deaf." He removed the rag and draped it over the broken rim of the cracked sink. "Eight." He repeated, his fingers unrolling the small bundle of material. "I met Uma when she was eight. She wasn't much bigger than ye. Tried to cut out me eye with a broken bottle when she 'eard who me father was. Said she was the captain. Refused to even consider makin' an alliance with another captain. So I said to 'er how me sister is the captain in the family. I'm no captain. Never got proper trainin' t' be one. An' me sister is on the other side of the Isle. Far away from here. An' Uma, she began t' think. And she still 'ad me flat on my back, and she's still 'oldin' the bottle over me eye, and she finally says she needs a first mate. And that's our alliance. Now, is there anyone I can get, that will be able to bring ye 'ome?"


End file.
